


When I'm Gone

by vallahwillbemyheaven



Series: Gangster AU [12]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Gangsters, Kidnapping, M/M, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:28:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4864823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vallahwillbemyheaven/pseuds/vallahwillbemyheaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, Michael, a person can go without food for 45 days, but can only go without water for 7 days."</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I'm Gone

Michael really shouldn’t have been surprised at his current situation. Being held by drug dealers and other shit heads for cheaper product or information kind of came in the job description. That being said, Michael had gotten pretty good at getting away, so finding himself trapped in a cell in some fuck’s dingy basement with a shackle on his ankle was still processing in his brain.

Michael had been there for two days, if the light that came through the house-vent sized window above his cell was anything to go by. The bastards were crafty, having been working with another pretty powerful gang, and the whole Michael kidnapping thing had been an attempt to bring Geoff down a peg or two.

The other goal of this whole scheme seemed to be to get the information involving where they got their product and weapons. Now, it was no secret that they never fucking made the drugs in their own home, but they had connection who were lovely enough to cook it for them. It was kind of a 50-50 deal they had going on with those connections, and also their connections got protection via the lovely neighborhood corrupted cop who they had on their side.

Was Michael going to tell them that? Fuck no.

Right now, the torture they seemed to be attempting to get the information out of Michael was starvation. It had been going on since he had gotten here and Michael seriously had not had anything to eat or drink in two days. It was getting to him, but he was not about to let them know that; sitting up straight against the wall and holding his head up high, as if he was in control of this situation.

If Michael was being completely honest with himself, he was fucking terrified. Every hour he went without food, his resolve dropped. Every time someone walked in, he was scared they were going to start physically torturing him. He was scared that after they got what they wanted, they’d leave him behind as a carcass to find for his boyfriends.

He refused to let those thoughts be the ones he listened to, because if he gave in to fright, he gave it all in. He had to look like he was in power to be intimidating and make it out of this without being absolutely mutilated or some shit.

He had started to slump against the wall and immediately rectified that, scooting back and sitting up, cracking his neck loud enough so that the ever-rotating guard[s] could hear. He knew how to act like he was in a position of power; he did live with Geoff, Jack, and Ryan after all. He could fake it all the same.

The guard simply looked back to glare at him. He had this air about him that nearly had Michael dropping his whole outward appearance just to judge him. He wasn’t the one Michael was scared of. The ‘leader’ of the gang that had caused this whole issue was called Julian, though Michael suspected that was not his real name, simply because he knew for a fact that gang leaders were not known to use their real names with anyone they weren’t close to. Hell, Geoff has had yet to tell Joel, their corrupted cop, his real name.

It was exactly four days later when Julian came to visit. The man had a water bottle with him, tossing it through the bars of the cage and leering down at Michael, who was sat as straight as possible, trying to hold up his head.

“You know, Michael, a person can go without food for 45 days, but can only go without water for 7 days. I’d suggest drinking that. We’ve haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet,” Julian said with an air of the horrors to come for Michael. For a quick second, Michael considered not drinking the water out of spite, but he considered dying and thought ‘Maybe not’.

Michael had been holding eye contact with Julian for the entirety of his visit, but as soon as he was gone, Michael grabbed the water bottle and pretty much downed it in one go. It was like some small relief for his throat not to be dry like crazy. He slumped against the wall, head hitting the concrete behind him. He couldn’t even be bothered to cringe.

Six days had taken its toll on everyone, though, maybe not in the way it was hitting Michael. Ray and Gavin couldn’t exactly say they had seen much of Ryan for the past couple of days, although Geoff and Jack running off to do body dumps spoke for itself. Gavin had been spending a lot of time in his apartment, trying anything to track down Michael. Ray was with him 24/7, though he had to sit on the floor in Gavin’s apartment due to a lack of interior decorating on Gavin’s part.

Gavin had meticulously combed through footage of the deal-gone-wrong at least seven times, had gotten what he could off of Michael’s smashed phone that they had found at the source, and had done what he could with the city’s surveillance, but there was only so much he could do. Their best hope to getting anything was for Ryan to do it; he had picked up a few ‘less desirable’ skills during his time with Edgar.

The one thing they did know was that Edgar wasn’t behind this. They had pretty good proof he had taken off somewhere for the time being and taken whoever he had working for him with him. Michael was still definitely in the city, thusly, Edgar was not the culprit.

Currently, Ray and Gavin were in Gavin’s apartment. Gavin had been working for two days straight and Ray was surprised he didn’t look like he was about to collapse. Ray had been taking power naps by the apartment door; they didn’t want the same shit to happen to Gavin, after all. Ray was the bodyguard, because the Gents were out doing ‘information gathering’, which involved dark details that neither Ray nor Gavin needed.

Ray jumped when Gavin let out a frustrated growl, closing something out on his computer screen to open something else. It was all of the video feed for the past six days that Gavin could get his hands on and he was back to skimming it over and combing through it again. By Ray’s count, it was the fourth time he had done that.

“Is Gavin having any luck over there?” Geoff grunted over the headset, which Gavin did not have on because it was a distraction and he would not be distracted.

“Not at all. What about you guys?” Ray had asked, knowing the answer would be a no.

“Well, if the fact that we’ve already done two body dumps today is anything to go by,” Geoff said, not needing to say anything more. Ray knew what it meant.

The line fell silent after that and Ray was back to watching Gavin and listening to the sound his keyboard made as his fingers glided over it effortlessly. The determination in Gavin’s keystrokes had Ray absolutely entranced, and it was times like these that made him remember that long before meeting any of them, Michael and Gavin had already been a thing. God knows how many times Michael went through Gavin disappearing before he became his full time bodyguard.

Gavin was starting to look weary by the time the sun went down and he had officially been awake for 66 hours. Ray decided enough was enough and he was going to get him to go to bed, actually go to bed. He got up and very gently pulled Gavin away from the computer he had been working on nonstop.

When the other started protesting in the form of grunts and shuffling, Ray sighed. “Gavin, you aren’t doing any good to Michael if you’re so tired that you can’t function, alright.” He stated, making sure Gavin understood it wasn’t up for debate if he slept. Gavin settled and let Ray direct him over to the mattress that served as a bed for the hacker on long jobs.

The Brit went to sleep almost immediately after he laid down and Ray had a strong burst of relaxation. Two days of listening to Gavin click and type away at his computer, though serene, honestly got tedious and Ray was happy for the break. Gavin had gone to bed much easier, as when Michael had first gone missing, those first three days Gavin refused to sleep and by the fourth day, Ray had to just drag him over to the bed and force him to stay there by more or less lying on top of him and being very stubborn about moving.

Ray decided to sit on the mattress next to Gavin, yawning himself as he pressed his hand to the headset. “Gavin’s down,” he yawned, before quickly following up with “I got him to go to sleep.” He didn’t want Geoff or someone to think that Gavin had been shot and Ray gave less of a fuck, after all.

“How’d you pull that off?” Jack asked over the headset. He sounded out of breath, so Ray assumed he was helping with a body dump. Ray chuckled, lying down next to Gavin and throwing his arm around the Brit, because Ray was a man who liked to cuddle in his sleep. Geoff and he frequently made cuddle-buddies out of each other, after all.

“I just kind of pulled him over to the bed,” Ray stated truthfully. “I’m gonna take out my head piece and go to sleep. You’re gonna have to stop by Gavin’s apartment if you need me.”

And with that Ray pulled out the headset and placed it very gently on the ground next to the mattress. When he woke up the next morning, he was alone on the bed, Gavin having already gotten back to his scanning video cameras for any hinting of Michael. The second day, Gavin had said “Well, if they move him, I’ll be the first to know” as his reasoning for watching the security cameras.

Michael had gotten back to be ignored by his captures and he wanted to just break his intimidation tactics just to yell for some damn company. Julian hadn’t made an appearance after giving him the water bottle and the lack of company was starting to get to him.

Without realizing he’d done it, his knees were pulled to his chest and his chin was resting on them. Of course, as soon as he realized he’d done it, he went back to the slightly uncomfortable position of sitting up straight with his head high. Not only did he look like he was in control, at least hopefully, he looked like he had some dignity and wasn’t falling apart on the inside.

It went like that for a few more days as Michael slowly weakened from a lack of food and the dehydration that would be fixed by the sixth day via Julian throwing a water bottle at him. By the eighteenth day, Michael was begging Julian to give him something to eat, hand clutching at his stomach as Julian grinned down at him.

Julian had grinned in a way that said nothing good was about to happen before he disappeared, Michael calling after him desperately. Julian returned after a few minutes, a tray of food in his hand which he slid to Michael through a slot under the cage door. On the tray rested an apple and some bread, which Michael tore bits off from to eat slowly. He had a feeling that after he finished eating, the real torture would begin.

When he looked up after the piece of bread was finished, Julian had disappeared. There were two men, however, that Michael didn’t recognize opening his cage door. Michael gulped down the last bite of bread before they got in, a key rattling in one of their hands. Michael realized after a second they were going to unlock his ankle restraint and for a split second considering fleeing, until he realized he could barely hold himself up anymore.

One of the men yanked him to his feet by his hair, pulling out a few strands of the curly auburn hair and causing Michael to yelp in pain. It was like he was being juggled, because his hair was let go and he was being held up by his arms while his ankle restraint was unlocked. As soon as that was no longer a factor in his inability to move, he was being led out of the cage, legs like jello as he was basically dragged by his arms, feeling like they were going to pop out of socket but refusing to let another yelp or whimper out of his mouth. The first one had been a mistake and he wasn’t about to make it again. ‘Don’t let them know you’re hurt,’ Geoff had once told him, ‘It just lets them know whatever they’re doing is working’.

Michael started breathing heavily through his nose when he was dragged into a room with a meat hook hanging in the middle and Julian standing off in a dark corner with several instruments of torture next to him. Michael couldn’t make out what any of it was, but he suspected none of it was good.

He could feel them handcuffing his arms together and hanging those handcuffs on the hook and Michael mentally prepared himself as the two men left the room, shutting the door to the room, making it significantly dark.

Julian set about lighting candles in the room to light it up a little, this creepy little smile resting on his face. Michael watched him closely, trying his best to keep both fear and nausea at bay. Julian walked up to his slightly drooping structure and bent down to be right in Michael’s eye level, making it impossible to ignore him.

“So you get one chance to avoid hours upon hours of torture here, Michael,” came Julian’s teasing voice. “You can tell me who your suppliers are, and I’ll send people out to take them out.”

Michael just gave a low growl, trying his best to look brave and glare. Julian just chuckled and slipped out of sight. “Glad you feel that way, Michael. This is going to be very fun. For me, anyway.”

Michael’s vision went black as Julian tied a blindfold around his head. It must have been very heavy duty, as it wasn’t slipping in any way, but Julian was wrapping duct tape around it. “Just in case,” Julian told him and Michael found himself barring his teeth.

He felt Julian cutting off his shirt, not even trying to avoid cutting him, and Michael found himself biting down on his cheek to keep from screaming, balling his fists up to deal with the pain when the knife cut into his side. His shirt was pulled away and Michael became very aware of how cold it was in the room.

There was a burning on his back and it took a second for Michael to register Julian was cutting his back with the same knife he presumably used to get his shirt off. Michael told himself it wasn’t that bad, fighting screaming and crying. It wasn’t until Julian started whipping those same cut that Michael’s resolve to prevent screaming broke.

His yelled were distorted from his abused and constantly dry throat, but Julian seemed to enjoy hearing them. “Michael, you know, I could go at this for hours. It’s in your back’s best interest that you tell me what I need to know, and then I’ll patch you up. I might even send your ever-so-lovely Geoff a picture of how well I’m taking care of you,” the man leered.

Michael drew a shaky breath before responding to that. “F-Fuck…off,” the redhead stuttered, drawing in a loud gasp of air as Julian hit him excruciatingly hard. Every hit drew a scream out of Michael, rising in pitch as his back welted up and bled. Julian’s hit were wildly precise and always hit one of the many targets littering Michael’s back. After a while, Julian was either getting tired or had handed off the whip to someone else, because the hits became clumsy and uncalculated, but no less painful.

It would be three hours before the lashes on his back stopped completely, after Michael was sure his back must look mutilated from how heavy it felt like it was bleeding. He heard Julian’s footsteps against the floor and sagged in the chains, panting as he tried to block out the pain in his back. When Julian was back, he was rubbing something into all of the open wounds on Michael’s back which stung, but paled in comparison to the pain Michael had just felt. A bandage was being wrapped around his torso to cover all of the cuts and once that was done, someone pulled him down from the hook and tossed him carelessly to the floor.

He winced as he hit the floor with nothing to catch himself with and instead took concrete flooring to his face and arms, mostly. He heard a small chuckle come out of Julian before he heard a door shut and he realized that they had left him blind, handcuffed, in a room where he would undoubtedly be brought to screaming again and again.

Panic settled its way into Michael and he rolled over, drawing another wince from his lips as he pulled himself up through a few probably very odd looking maneuvers that left him panting. He heard the door open again and tensed up until he heard a camera’s flash going off. His eyes would have widened, had they had the ability to.

“Michael, I sure Geoff will enjoy seeing these. You want to tell me what I want to know and save Geoff the trauma of it all?” Julian asked, sneering down at him as Michael grinded down on his teeth. The thought of Geoff seeing whatever Julian had taken a picture of [probably blood leaking through the bandages or some shit] almost had Michael giving in. He did not want his boys to know what in all hell was going on, but at the same time, maybe the pictures would help them find him.

“Geoff’s loss, Michael,” Julian said after a long pause of waiting for Michael to speak. Michael desperately just wished he would leave him alone, leave all of them alone, but seeing as that wasn’t going to happen until Geoff kicked his ass or some shit, Michael was stranded. So maybe the picture, plus Ryan, could get them somewhere to getting him out of there. It’s funny how quickly his resolve to do this himself dissolved by a few knife cuts and a whip.

He took a few shuddering breaths after Julian left him to his thoughts, wanting suddenly to cry. His back hurt like a bitch and that pain radiated and clouded up his brain as he thought of his boyfriends. He thought about how Geoff would scold him for screaming, how Ryan would say ‘He could do better’, how Gavin and Ray would look disappointed in him, how worried Jack would be over that picture. He thought they wouldn’t want him after this. It was the eighteen days apart under emotional and physical torture that had broken Michael so far to think his boyfriends wouldn’t want him and Michael let out a broken sob.

The truth about his boyfriends couldn’t be further from the truth. Geoff and Jack had lost count of how many bodies they’d buried, Ray could no longer get Gavin to sleep voluntarily, because either the worry he would miss Michael on a camera or just the worry for Michael would keep him up at night as he cried.

They had all taken to some form of praying for Michael at this point. This was the longest Michael had ever been missing. Ryan hadn’t even gotten a single hint about where Michael could be, and Jack and Geoff were worried about Ryan’s deteriorating sanity as he worked. The last body they’d dumped had been near unrecognizable.

For Geoff, the hardest thing to do was waking up. When there was this kind of a situation, it meant Geoff was waking up with Jack and maybe Ryan in the bed with him, and after the years of sleeping in a bed with six men, waking up to only one or maybe two in the bed with you was extremely difficult and emotionally painful, because it meant someone was in trouble. He hadn’t seen hair or hide of Ray or Gavin for six days now, but he knew trying to convince either of them to come to Ryan’s house would be impossible.

This morning had felt different to Geoff in some way, waking up just gave him this ‘off’ feeling and there was no other way to put it. He dragged himself out of bed to hear the screaming coming from the basement that had become so usual to him it sent a shiver down his spine. He shuffled past the door that led to a room of horror and to the kitchen, grabbing the closest alcoholic drink he could find and downing it before he looked around. There was mail on the floor that had been dropped though the mail slot that morning and he quickly picked it up. There was, surprisingly, one written out to him that left him very suspicious. No one should have known he was here; it was Ryan’s house, after all.

He headed to Ryan’s living room, ignoring the screaming that was ever so clear in this room to settle down on the couch and open it. There was nothing but pictures within the envelope and it took a second for Geoff to register what exactly the pictures were of.

“Fucking hell!” Geoff yelled, tossing the pictures onto the coffee table and rubbing his hand over his eyes angrily. It was Michael, Michael was bleeding, Michael was blindfolded, and Michael’s shirt was off. He heard Jack’s feet thumping down the hall as he ran into the living room to see what was wrong with Geoff and it never ceased to amaze the man how quickly Jack could wake up given the incentive.

A particularly loud scream had Geoff jumping, but Ryan came out of the basement wiping blood off his hands not long after. Geoff was gnawing on his lower lip angrily as he looked at the picture. He was holding his head up with his free hand as he stared at the picture, getting increasingly angry until Jack ripped it away from him, citing ‘having only one crazily angry boyfriend at a time’ as incentive.

“What is that?” Ryan asked, having not seen the photo just yet, while Jack examined it. Geoff had taken to holding his head in his hands, and Ryan had one of his eyebrows raised, looking innocent as if he hadn’t just slashed someone to death.

“I’m just going to say it’s something taken specifically to mess with Geoff and then never let anyone else see it. Ryan, hand me your lighter,” Jack said, holding his hand out for the other’s lighter which Jack knew he had on him because there was the distinct smell of burnt skin.

Ryan grumbled, pulling the lighter out of his pocket and handing it over to Jack. He did want to see the picture, but he got the distinct feeling it wouldn’t exactly help anyone if he did so he just let Jack do whatever he wanted with it, honestly. Jack headed for the backyard and for a split second, Ryan saw the image and felt his blood boil in anger.

Geoff’s phone buzzed with Ray’s caller ID, which was maybe slightly worrying. They only communicated over the phones when it was really fucking important. Geoff answered it almost immediately.

“Gavin found him.”

“What? Ray, did you just say-“

“Gavin fucking found Michael. He’s in this house on the south side of Austin,” Ray said, and then proceeded to give them the address. Geoff was off the couch so fast he actually fell over, while Ray was still talking over the phone.

“What?” Geoff asked, having heard nothing Ray had been saying.

“Do I need to go, or do you want me to stay here with Gavin?” Ray repeated. Gavin could be heard sobbing, or something, in the background. “He saw Michael over one of the Cameras, and apparently he didn’t look so good.”

“Stay with Gavin. Do not let him leave that apartment.”

“No, Geoff, when I say he saw Michael, I mean they were dragging a body out of the back of the house.”

Geoff nearly crushed his phone out of shock. “Ray, are you saying that they fucking killed Michael?” Geoff asked, forcing the sorrow down for now. Ryan’s eyes kind of went murderous as soon as those words processed through his brain and he ran outside to get Jack.

The gents were off in Ryan’s car in less than a minute; Geoff having hung up on Ray when Gavin’s crying became really audible. They all had this murderous itch running through them now that they knew, or at least believed, Michael to be dead. They reached the house too quickly almost; Jack having broken the speed limit several times and nearly toppling the damn car.

Bursting into the completely silent house was creepy beyond all measure of reality. Jack went to check out back, Ryan went to check downstairs, and Geoff checked the floor they currently stood on.

Ryan found the room where Michael had been, if his torn up shirt was anything to go by, but there was not actual Michael on the premise. There was a freshly dug grave, but Michael wasn’t in it, thankfully.

Ray called Geoff again, this time sounding out of breath over the phone. “Geoff, Geoff, Gavin’s fucking apartment just got fucking shot up. They fucking destroyed his computer and Gavin had a bullet scratch by his arm and fucking shit Geoff. Did you guys find Michael, or something, maybe?” he asked, out of breath, having just clearly fled the apartment with Gavin. “We’re heading to the penthouse.”

Geoff was going to say something along the lines of ‘Go to Ryan’s house, it’s quicker’, except for the fact that somewhere in his general vicinity a can of tear gas exploded, probably having been on a timer. Not only could Geoff not see, and for that matter really breath, Ryan was trapped in the basement of the damn house unless he felt like running through the cloud.

Whoever the hell had Michael was very, very good at fucking with them. The pictures, Gavin’s apartment getting shot up[Geoff needed to ask Ray how the hell they’d made it out], a body that looked like Michael, and now tear gas. The tear gas was burning Geoff’s eyes, throat, and nose, and he was coughing just to get in a good breath. He couldn’t see well enough to walk and he had to wait for the damn gas to disperse.

He heard a door being thrown open; sounded like a sliding door, probably Jack coming in all worried. He coughed as he tried to get another good gasp of air, throwing his arm around his mouth and nose. Jack yelled something, probably to Ryan, as Geoff was maybe a little distracted. Geoff felt a hand on his arm and he was being tugged out of the gas cloud into the outside world, where he could fucking see. Geoff collapsed to the ground, gasping and rubbing at the tear stains and watery eyes of his as Ryan ran outside, his whole face covered with a towel, very lucky not to knock into anything.

“Okay, so, that went well,” Ryan said after a second. He had sat down in the grass when he made it outside, to wait for Geoff to collect himself again. The poor man had prolonged exposure to tear gas and Ryan knew from an experience back when he ran with Edgar that it wasn’t fun.

“I could do with less sarcasm, Ryan,” Geoff panted out, rolling over onto his back and squinting into the light. Jack bent over him, checking his face, seeing a few irritated areas of his skin.

“How’s your vision?” Jack asked concerned, watching as Geoff looked around as if he was trying to see something in particular.

“A little blurry. Should be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Help me up,” Geoff stated, holding his hand out because he had gotten in that angle where it’s really hard to get up on your own. Jack pulled him up by the hand offered as Ryan got off the ground. Jack wrapped Geoff arm around his neck when it became obvious Geoff couldn’t see well enough to actually walk on his own.

Ryan followed after the two as they walked out of the not-actually-fenced-in-all-the-way backyard. They were back at the haphazardly parked van in less than two minutes or so, Geoff riding passenger and Ryan, as always, in the back, with Jack as the driver.

“We need to go to the penthouse. Gavin’s apartment got shot up, Gavin’s hurt, apparently,” Geoff said quietly, rubbing at his eyes as his vision returned. Ryan was looking at him from the back seat, a worried frown resting on his face.

“When were you going to share that with us?” Ryan asked gently from the backseat, his concern suddenly tuning towards Ray and Gavin. “Where was Gavin hit?” Ryan, being basically their doctor, wanted to know so he could mentally prepare a list of what the hell needed to be done.

“According to Ray, he got scratched by a bullet to the arm,” Geoff answered. Ryan immediately made a checklist with gauze on it, among other things. Gavin probably wasn’t going to die then, as long as ray knew to tie off the wound to keep it from bleeding too badly, which Ryan was sure he knew.

It took them 30 complete minutes of silence to reach the penthouse and Ryan, for once, was the first one out of the car. He raced into the building and up the elevator to reach Gavin in record time. The two Lads were sitting on the couch, Gavin having gotten back to work on the laptop they kept in the penthouse for this exact reason. Ryan and Ray switched places just as Geoff and Jack made it up together, Ryan unwrapping the washcloth from Gavin’s apartment that had seen better days to clean the not-that-bad wound with an antiseptic wipe, causing Gavin to winced, before wrapping it in gauze.

Gavin barely noticed, really, working with one hand as Ryan worked on his arm. Ray and Geoff were talking about the incident that had just unraveled. Ray laughed to cover up his worry about Michael, saying something about how they had the worst luck of any relationship ever.

“So, what happened at Gavin’s apartment, anyway? You never got the chance to tell me over the phone,” Geoff stated matter-of-factly. Ray smiled proudly, because did he have a story to tell.

“Well, so bastard kicked the door in, and you know how for a small part of the stairs there’s that wall that blocks your vision? While they were behind that I pulled Gavin into the kitchen, because you can’t be seen from the kitchen. They shot up his computer desk and then they started looking for Gavin and as soon as they turned the corner into the kitchen, we got into a short gun battle which consisted of Gavin getting shot in the arm and then me shooting the guy about three times in the chest. Then I tied Gavin’s arm and we legged it here. We’re pretty badass, if I do say so myself!” Ray beamed, causing Geoff to chuckle at the younger.

“Badass, maybe. I’m glad you two are okay, at least,” Geoff said, kissing Ray’s temple as Gavin grumbled to Ryan about him babying his arm and Ryan saying something about not wanting it to get infected. It seemed like a perfectly normal day for this six-way.

Except right now it was only a five-way and that was a fact they were all painfully aware of. Michael was still missing, no doubt going through some kind of horror. The worry permeated the room as soon as all of them remembered the Michael wasn’t there and it fell silent except for Gavin’s keyboard clicking away in his lap.

It’d be a whole month before they’d get Michael back. It was a call at 2 in the morning that set the ball rolling, Joel having phoned Geoff’s number and saying ‘So you won’t believe who I found while I was doing a beat.’

Apparently, Michael had fought his way out of that hellhole by breaking his guard’s neck when they forgot to check his chain and taking the man’s gun. Still weak in the necks, Michael fought a path to the outside world, taking out Julian in the process. Then he collapsed in an alley at some point on his walk back to the penthouse from where they had him holed up in another house, Joel had found him, and had him sent to the hospital.

“He looked a lot better than you’d think he would, given the circumstances. His back was scarred up though. He’s in room 506 if you wanna see him,” Joel said, before hanging up. Geoff’s rush to get out of the bed pulled the blanket off of everyone and woke them up, which was slightly unfortunate because Ryan was sleeping, for once.

“What the hell are you doing, Geoff?” Ray had asked, but Geoff was getting dressed in a rush and the only thing he could get out was ‘Joel found Michael. He’s in the hospital.’ And it was like everyone was as awake as Geoff in less than a second.

They left the house, some hopping as they pulled on pants [See Jack and Ryan] and piled into the nearest car. It happened to be Ray’s ‘Baby’, also knocked as his convertible. Not enough seats left Ryan sitting on the back of the car and holding onto Jack, especially at the speed Ray drove to the hospital. How in the hell they didn’t have a billion tickets by now probably had something to do with Joel.

After that it was just a rush to get into room 506, where Michael was forcibly staying awake to wait for them. He grinned like a big war hero when they all piled into the room and coated him in kisses and hugs and worries. Geoff was leaning against the wall, waiting for the rest of the boys to settle down so he could get a kiss or two in.

“You missed me all covered in dirt and blood. I looked Bruce Willis in ‘Live Free or Die Hard’. It was badass as fuck,” Michael chuckled weakly, getting another kiss to his temple from Gavin, who probably looked out of all of them to be the most relieved to see ‘his boi’.

“I’m just glad you’re alive, Michael,” Geoff said after a second of thought. Michael was far from alright, his back permanently scarred, he had cuts to his face that would take time to heal, and his ankle had been fractured, but he was alive, so that was the terminology Geoff went with.

The whole group stayed there the whole night, most of them falling asleep in uncomfortable positions. When everyone was asleep but Geoff, the oldest man went outside to have a talk with the doctor. Michael was going to have nightmares for months or years if what the doctor told him of the ordeals was true, but he should be fine otherwise.

Geoff sighed, but smiled as he walked back into the room after a good hour of uncomfortable conversation intermixed with breaks of small talk. He sat down in the chair nearest Michael’s bed, which had been, surprisingly, not taken by Gavin, and fell asleep there. It seemed Michael wasn’t going to be having Nightmares surrounded by his lovely boyfriends.


End file.
